The Importance of Geographic Knowledge

About a week ago, my good friends, Megan and David celebrated their first anniversary.

This means that just over a year ago, Pallory(if you've kept up on reading this blog, you will know what I mean by this), Jered, and I travelled from the little town of Mendota to Muskegon, Michigan. And this, is where one of those memorable stories begins.


Jered and I met Pallory in Mendota the night before and enjoyed a fun evening with our long lost friends. We then got up and moving early enough to give us about an extra hour to eat and get ready on the way to Muskegon.


It seemed like the longest car ride ever.


We finally broke the barrier and entered Michigan. We "ooed and awed" and the scenery and the cute towns like Holland. After a couple u-turns we pulled into the church parking lot, ready to go apply make up, change clothes, and freshen up our hair. We were surprised by how many people were at the church an hour before the ceremony; we had been thinking we'd pretty much have free reign of the church for awhile.


Some friends from TIU made their way over to our car as we stretched and began pulling out our necessities. The following is a close rendition of the conversation that followed our initial greetings:


"I don't want to alarm anyone... but the ceremony starts in 15 minutes."


"No, it starts at 4:30."


"Yes, yes it does start at 4:30."


"Ohhhh my goooosh. Time change! There's a time change!"


Chaos ensued. Mallory and I ran for the restroom, looking unkempt after hours in the car and a late night/early morning combo. Wearing our scrubby clothes, we dodged all the people who were wearing their finest for the wedding, and burst, arms full, into the restroom. We applied the only the absolutely essential make up and changed clothes at lightening speed.


We made it to our seats with moments to spare, and sat in disbelief at our mistake. We laughed later.

After a lovely wedding and reception, we spent the night at the homes of some gracious hosts. The next morning the four of us packed up our belongings and headed for the beach. With just a short time to dawdle, we soaked up a few rays, and tried not to let the boys pull us into the lake.

Our fun-filled, nearly disastrous weekend had to be rushed because someone had to be home for work that night, but it certainly was memorable. It is stories like this one that make me miss my friends mightily, and quite anxious to see them again.